Слике страница
PDF
ePub

ABT VOGLER.

WOULD that the structure brave, the manifold music I build,

Bidding my organ obey, calling its keys to their work, Claiming each slave of the sound, at a touch, as when Solomon willed

Armies of angels that soar, legions of demons that lurk, Man, brute, reptile, fly,—alien of end and of aim,

Adverse, each from the other heaven-high, hell-deep removed,

Should rush into sight at once as he named the ineffable

Name,

And pile him a palace straight, to pleasure the princess he loved!

[merged small][ocr errors][merged small][merged small]

δῶμ ̓ ὅ τεύχω δαιδαλόεν, καλέσαις αὐλῶν κλυτὰν πειθάνορ ̓ ὑπη

ρεσίαν,

πρόσπολ ̓ ὄρσαις φθέγμαθ' ἕτοιμα θιγών, ως δαιμόνων ὄρσεν

ποταναν

οὐρανίων τε βίαν Σολόμων καὶ ταρταρείων,

ἄνδρα τε θῆρά τε μυϊάν θ ̓ ἕρπετόν τ', ἐναντίους

ἔργον ἀλλάλοις μέριμνάν τ', οὐρανὸς ὡς ἐρέβευς, προθορεῖν,

ὡς κρέοντ' αὔδασ ̓ ἀναύδατον, φίλας αιρέμεν

δόμον ἄφαρ μείλιγμ ̓ ἀνάσσας·

I-2

Would it might tarry like his, the beautiful building of mine, This which my keys in a crowd pressed and importuned to raise!

Ah, one and all, how they helped, would dispart now and now combine.

Zealous to hasten the work, heighten their master his praise! And one would bury his brow with a blind plunge down

to hell,

Burrow awhile and build, broad on the roots of things, Then up again swim into sight, having based me my palace well,

Founded it, fearless of flame, flat on the nether springs.

And another would mount and march, like the excellent minion he was,

Ay, another and yet another, one crowd but with many

a crest,

Raising my rampired walls of gold as transparent as glass,

Eager to do and die, yield each his place to the rest: For higher still and higher (as a runner tips with fire, When a great illumination surprises a festal night— Outlining round and round Rome's dome from space to spire) Up, the pinnacled glory reached, and the pride of my soul was in sight.

εἴθε μοι τοῖον μένοι ἱμερόεν

ἀντιστροφή.

δῶμ ̓ ὅ παμφώνοισιν ἀολλέες ἠπείγονθ ̓ ἁμίλλαις χόρδαι ἐποικο

δομεῖν·

ὡς ἕκασται συμπόνεον, σποράδαν εἴτ ̓ ἰλαδόν, πρόθυμοι

δεσπότου ἔργον ἐπουρίσαι εὐκλειάν τ ̓ ἐπαίρειν

καθ' ὁ μὲν ἐς δνοφερὸν πρανὴς κολυμβῶν Τάρταρον

γᾶς πλατείας ἀμφὶ ῥίζας σκάπτε τέως πονέων κέλαδος, εἶτ ̓ ἀνασσ ̓, εὖ δῶμά μοι παγᾶν κτίσας νερτερᾶν πυρὸς ἀθίκτοις ἐν θεμέθλοις·

ἄλλος αὖ σύν τ' ἄλλος ἄνω βεβαώς, θαυμαστὰ λατρέυων

στρατὸς

εἷς ἑκατογκεφάλας, πάγχρυσον ἦρεν λαμπροτέρων ὑάλου

ἅρμα πύργων, δρᾶν τι πᾶς τις καὶ θανέμεν μεμαώς,

ἐπῳδός.

τῷ πέλας εἴκων· ὡς γὰρ εἶτ ̓ ἔκρηξ ̓ ἀφράστου φέγγεα παννυχίδος,

θεῖ τις πυρὶ βυσσόθεν ἐς κορυφὰν τηλαυγὲς ἱρὸν

ἐκστέφων Ρώμας ἄωτον, τοῖον ἀεὶ

καλλιπύργου θαύματος αιρομένου χάρμα μοι ψυχᾶς ἐφάνθη

In sight? Not half! for it seemed, it was certain, to match

man's birth,

Nature in turn conceived, obeying an impulse as I;

And the emulous heaven yearned down, made effort to reach the earth,

As the earth had done her best, in my passion, to scale the sky:

Novel splendours burst forth, grew familiar and dwelt with mine, Not a point nor peak but found and fixed its wandering star ; Meteor-moons, balls of blaze: and they did not pale nor pine, For earth had attained to heaven, there was no more near nor far.

Nay more; for there wanted not who walked in the glare and glow,

Presences plain in the place; or, fresh from the Protoplast, Furnished for ages to come, when a kindlier wind should blow, Lured now to begin and live, in a house to their liking at last; Or else the wonderful Dead who have passed through the body and gone,

But were back once more to breathe in an old world

worth their new:

What never had been, was now; what was, as it shall be anon; And what is,-shall I say, matched both? for I was made perfect too.

« ПретходнаНастави »